The Pale Locksmith

CHAPTER 1: THE BAKERY

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Adiniah kept the broom moving quickly, gradually making her way from one end of the Bakery to the other. It was essential to keep the shop floor swept clean; after all, nobody would want to buy food from a place that did not look well cared for. She had initially asked Elizur to do it, but he had not done the best of jobs. His excuse for his lack of effort had been that people expected to find some flour on a baker's floor. In the end, Adiniah had ended up leaving him at the counter, staring out the window and waiting just in case someone else came through the door.

Adiniah's brown eyes also kept flickering to the big front window, through which she could see out onto the square. She was not expecting any more customers, for the evening was drawing in. The shop was at its busiest just before breakfast and at lunchtime, when shoppers would purchase their roundloaves for the day. There was nothing more traditional than a roundloaf on the table at every meal, and Adiniah was confident theirs was the best in the city. Certainly better than that at the Bakery located a few streets away, even if some people said they preferred to buy from a genuine Antolunder. Anyway, after mealtimes things always calmed down. Since midday there had been a few more sales, but there had been quiet periods where she had taken the opportunity to eat, drink and tidy.

The Bakery had been part of Adiniah's life for as long as she could remember. When she was little, she had helped her mother in the early mornings making preparations for the day – it was good she was a dawn lark, already ready before the sun was. At first she was just placed on the counter, given some dough and told to make balls. As she got older, she began doing more and more – taking charge of the ovens, taking coins and giving smaller ones in return, then cleaning at the end of the day. As she had learnt more her mother had done less, seemingly growing bored of the shop. Now often it was just Adiniah in the Bakery, but her family did still help out when it got too busy.

She opened the door to sweep the debris outside, and now could hear clearly the bustle of the square. There was also the smell of roasting meat; several months ago the Butcher along the row had taken over the empty shop next to his own and he had begun to cook sheep carcasses and chickens by the dozen to sell to famished passers-by. At first, her parents had been worried that the Bakery would lose trade to this competition, although Adiniah had told them it would not be a problem. She simply began to sell loaves by the quarter at lunchtime. After all, people needed something to soak up the meat juice with. She was right, and soon the Bakery she was bringing in more money than ever.

"Hello dear."

Into the doorway came one of their closing time regulars, bent almost double by her twisted spine. Adiniah went to her and held her arm out for support. The woman took it and together they made their way into the shop.

"Thank you, my dear. What do you have for me today?"
"We still have a roundloaf left and a few of those oatcakes. There's also some butterbread left in the corner."
"Those oatcakes look a bit burnt. You need to be more careful."

At the gentle criticism Adiniah gave a polite smile and said nothing. There was really nothing to be gained by explaining it was her brother's fault, but she settled for a quick glare in his direction. It had been he who burnt the cakes in the morning, distracted as he was by the Tailor's daughters helping to set up their father's shop.

"How much does this come to my dear?"

"Just give me two, and you can take it all."

Slowly the woman reached into her clothes and pulled out a small bag. From it, she took two small coins and pressed them into Adiniah's hand. Adiniah walked over to the counter where her brother was sitting and dropped the coins into the wooden box hidden there.

"Can you help her home? I will close up the shop."

Elizur nodded. They both knew of the woman's tragic misfortune, she - old and very nearly crippled - left to raise her granddaughter after the murder of her daughter. He helped her pack up the food, then walked in step with her as she left the shop. He may have been a second-rate baker's assistant but her brother had a good heart, even if he had to sometimes be reminded to do the right thing. Adiniah watched them as they slowly made their way across the square, then exited the shop herself. She locked it of course – only a fool would be so careless not to do so in this raw little nook of the world.

Along the row she went to the butcher. Gershon was his name. He was the wealthiest of the shopkeepers, so by default was the most respected man on the square. He had a son about Adiniah's age, but he was rarely around. Gershon wanted more for the fruit of his loins, and used a lot of coins to send him off to get an education. His father's hope was that one day he would work for the Ministry. Being a butcher paid well but was messy, while on the other hand if you worked for the Minister people looked at you – and your family – with great respect. As Gershon well knew.

He too was on the verge of closing up, but when he saw Adiniah he smiled then went back to his cool larder. When he returned, he was holding a small package. As she waited, he opened it up, then began to cut the cured beef contained inside into thin slices.

"So you are expecting your parents back tonight?"
"Don't see why not... the weather has been good so there should be no delays."
"Unless they fancied being alone for a few more days. You know, enjoying all that extra privacy."

With this, he gave her a grin and a wink. Adiniah smiled politely but said nothing. She doubted very much her parents would be late in coming home because they were having too much fun. She suspected they could not wait to be back, to make themselves busy again. She knew that all was not right in their relationship. She tried not to worry about what would happen when she and Elizur each got married and moved out, leaving their parents with only each other for company. These thoughts she shared with nobody – not even her brother. She certainly was not about to share them with the leery blood-splattered man who stood before her. So instead she remained silent and counted out some coins as Gershon wrapped the slices up to hand over to her.

"Your dad will love that, he will. Anything else I can do for you?"
"Not today, thank you."
"Well, if there ever is anything else, just let me know. I'm always happy to help out a pretty girl such as yourself."

Another one of those winks. Gershon had a bit of a reputation around the square and further afield, and she had no intention of falling for his charms. She knew full well what men like Gershon thought of girls like her. Good enough to bed, but too dark to wed. In any case, she needed to get back to the Bakery. With a last word of polite thanks, she left. She paused by the roasting meat. Her senses were tempting her, but not enough to part with a coin.

It had been a long day. Her brother had overslept again, making her morning busier than it should have been. Today had been manageable but tomorrow was Saturday, meaning the Bakery would be even busier. He would not get anyway with it again, not once their parents were back. She had wanted to stay up for them, to reassure herself that they were okay, that they had not hated the time together. But she was just too, too tired.

Before going to her little bedroom, she checked the doors were locked for a final time. That was what everyone was told to do nowadays – she hoped her parents had remembered their key. Behind the door was a mirror, and she caught her reflection. She realised that there was some flour upon her cheek, contrasted against her dark complexion. She smiled faintly; evidence of another hard day's work. She pulled the cloth from her waistband to wipe it off, then wearily made her way up the stairs to bed. And then, though night had not yet fully arrived, she lay down and was asleep within moments.